Eyes that see
by LilithiaRW
Summary: My first one shot that has not turned into a series lolz . Sakura was not blind. She saw what he had become. His eyes were cold, cruel... But they only softened for her. And she wished dearly that she didn't love him back. She hated to love him.


**I am not usually an angsty writer. But this is a thing that's been floating in my head for a while. Originally this was for one of my own original stories, but I applied it to my SasuSaku fetish and put it on Fanfic to see what the reaction was. Do you guys realize that this is my first fanfic not rated M? Wow, never knew I was so... adult with my works haha.**

**I don't own Naruto. Enjoy!**

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><p><em>I am not blind.<em>

_I see what he is._

_What he has become._

_I don't want to love him._

_I wish I didn't._

_But dear God…. I do._

_I love him, so much that it is a sin._

_God forgive me for loving him._

"My love." His voice was sultry, seductive, black satin sliding down her conscious.

She dared not speak.

"Silent?" He seemed to ask as his hand caressed her face, pulling a strand of her hair into his fingers and twirling the deep pink locks around the digits. He enjoyed how soft and luscious her hair was, thick and warm from her body heat, falling to her waist.

Still she did not answer.

But he could see the devotion and love shining in her eyes, ignoring the other things her eyes showed, not wanting to acknowledge her disappointment. Dark eyes, pools of dark emerald, nearly shaded in the dark room. Her skin was like snow, her face as beautiful as a goddess, a perfect balance of soft cheekbones, full lips, and intelligent eyes.

Her eyes… they were slanted slightly, giving her a feline look, her gaze jaded and saddened, giving off the impression of a heartbroken beauty.

Once upon a time, she had been strong. She could stand wield her sword with deadly accuracy, throw her needles and kunai with elegance and her movements as fluid as the ancient snake dances.

There had been a time when she would laugh and smile and roar with life. She had been headstrong, stubborn, and had the sharpest wit accompanying a sharper tongue.

A fiery hellcat.

Pure spitfire.

A Fury.

An Amazon.

There had been a time when she sang.

"Sing for me, my love." He whispered in her ear, brushing his lips intimately on her earlobe and then trailed it down her jaw and finally kissed her lips.

She blinked up at him, staring at him with a deep sadness. His own eyes narrowed; she knew he did not like to be pitied. He was such a proud man.

Pride….

It was the fall of many.

Including her dearest love.

He had become a monster… No… He had always been a monster. And that was the worst part because…

She had fallen in love with him anyway.

Her heart ached at the sight of such perfection, molded into mortal man. His skin like moonlight, his hair had always reminded her of raven feathers, ruffled to perfection. His face was angled cheekbones, flushed lips, and eyes cold and merciless as the void.

Except now.

Whenever he looked at her, those black eyes of his heated up, devouring her with just a glance.

He loved her.

However evil and twisted he had become, he still loved her.

It was the only thing about him that never changed.

"I miss the sound of you voice…" he breathed on her neck and placed his lips ever so gently on her pulse, so that his lips barely brushed to skin. Her Love hovered his face over her collarbone for a good minute, waiting for her to react.

She did not.

He sighed and began slowly grazing his lips back and forth along her neck.

Why couldn't she see he was protecting her?

That he was keeping her from harm?

Why was she still loyal to the village that allowed her to suffer?

He loved her!

"Sakura…"

Ah, there is the reaction he was searching for.

At the sound of her name, her eyes stopped blinking lazily and looked up at him. Her chest pounded in his proximity, as it had always done. There was once a time when she had reveled in such feelings. These days whenever he made her feel this way, all she wanted to do was rip her heart out. She hated how much she loved him.

His hand ghosted over her arm, making the hairs on her arm rise.

She closed her eyes and opened them again, staring avidly at the ceiling.

He growled at her dismissal.

Whirling away from the large, king-sized bed, he paced the room. His boots echoed on the hard wood floor, the embers in the fireplace dying in the early morning. Weak starlight filtered through veil-like curtains, pooling their light across her gorgeous face.

His hands ached to touch her face, trace her cheekbones.

A long time ago, she would have leapt into his arms. Kissed him senseless. Murmur against his lips as they mad love. Scream his name and mold her body against his.

Now she lay in the bed like a fairytale princess waiting to be awakened.

Except she was awake.

And she refused to acknowledge her prince.

He did not know what else to do, and it infuriated him. She had every luxury imaginable! Even now he only concerned himself with his revenge and her well-being.

So what if he had destroyed Konoha? So what if he was currently waging a war against the survivors of Konoha, destroying those that dared stand in his way? Her Konoha 'comrades' could never love her like he loved her! And he would be damned if he let anyone take her from him.

But if he was to be honest with himself… She was already gone. Her heart was with those Konoha filth, and he was left with her shell. Sakura did not need to be taken- She had left willingly.

With a resounding roar of anger, he slammed the door, exiting the room.

...

She wanted to gag.

When he crawled into bed, clothed only in his undergarment, he was slightly damp, with droplets of water still clinging to those perfect raven locks.

But she could still smell the faint underlying scent of blood. How could she not? He had always smelled of blood.

Ever since he had turned against their village.

But she supposed it was only her village now. Not his. Never his. He might have run Konoha into the ground, but it would never be his.

Thoughts of Konoha caused her heart to clench and she erased it from her mind.

"Sakura…" he purred in her ear. He was in a better mood now. He must have stormed down to the dungeons to torture some poor soul.

She remained limp as he pulled her body, clothed in a thin night gown, flush against his body. Those familiar lips of his pushed themselves against her own, but she did not respond, staring somewhere into the distance. He ignored her lack of emotion and buried his face in the crook of her neck, inhaling the scent of her hair.

A long time ago, she would have arched into him. Traced his flawless musculature with her fingertips, claw into his strong shoulders. Kiss his sensitive part just under his ear.

After all these years, he was still perfect. And after all these years, she still wishes she had never fallen in love with him.

Her body is lifeless and he pulls her tighter and presses his ear against her chest, listening to her heartbeat, the only part of her that she cannot hide from him.

She thinks of her friends. Of Konoha. She wishes she could be out there with them. Fighting a losing war, but fighting nonetheless. She wishes she could still fight at all.

But her days as a kunoichi were over. A horrible accident years ago had left her chakra pathways irreparable, and her bones fragile. Years of abuse to her, mentally and physically, had turned her into one of the strongest kunoichi of her time. And in a few days of torture, which later turned into months of a mission gone wrong, it was all gone. She had been crippled for the sake of her village.

Why couldn't he see that?

Konoha didn't cripple her. The village had tried to save her,

Why did he have to add her to the list of reasons to destroy her home? He had no right to blame her village for what happened to her.

A tear gathered in her eye, and she allowed this one to fall, just this one time, because she knew that he was asleep. His steady breathes pressed his abdomen against her, his strong, masculine body sending butterflies in her stomach, which she quickly stomped out.

She became aware of his hands, large, scarred, bloodied hands pressing against her lower back, one moving to press between her shoulder blades. His breath puffed down the plunging neckline of her night gown, warm and damp, and she resisted a shiver.

Ever so slowly, her arms rose.

Up…

Up…

Up…

Until they had lightly wrapped themselves around her love. Just as she had every night, when she was sure he was fully unconscious, she would allow herself to let out just a miniscule amount of the love she still, unwillingly, harbored for him. Her fingers hovered just above his skin as she imagined herself caressing his face, his biceps, those seductive abs. But she did not touch him.

Drawing away, she pulled her arms to her chest and tilted her head up, relaxing into the pillow and staring at the starlight. It was almost morning. And then she would endure another day. And then another. And another.

His arms around her were locked, never once relaxing during the night. They never did. Every night he held her, as a dying man grasps onto his last shred of hope. He needed her, she knew. But she couldn't support him.

Not what he had become.

Reluctantly, warning bells resounding in her head, she lifted her hand. Crossing just the few milliliters that separated her hand and his face, for he was still sleeping with his head pressed onto her chest, she brushed a lock of black hair from his cheek.

It was the first time she had touched him in two years.

...

He awakened for an unknown reason. Keeping his breathing even, he assessed the situation.

Sakura was still held tightly against him.

His face against her heartbeat.

Her scent drowning him in itself.

And then he realized what it was- he felt eyes. He felt someone watching him. He almost gave himself away by allowing his heart to speed up. Sakura was watching him.

Just the thought brought him joy. She had been ignoring him for so long, her soul far away, her heart out of his reach.

But maybe, in the dead of night, when the whole world was asleep… had she returned? If only for a fleeting moment, was she remembering the love he felt for her? That she had to feel for him?

He was startled when her finger grazed his cheek…

She was touching him.

For the first time in nearly two years.

His withered heart soared and without thinking he lifted his head and captured her lips with his.

He felt her gasp; her eyes wide open in surprise.

God she was beautiful in his arms, just like when she had loved him, all those years ago.

He pulled away, briefly, leaning his forehead against hers, burning his gaze into her own eyes, eager to see the life that had returned to her.

Her voice was faint, barely audible, like a whisper in the wind, "S-Sasuke-kun…"

Then he stole another kiss and didn't let go.

A lone tear rolled down Sakura's cheek as she was reminded again that she could never stop loving him... No matter how much she wished she didn't.

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